Riley was duly impressed with the technology available at Five-O headquarters. She was especially grateful, though, for the large computer table which meant she didn't have to sit painfully and awkwardly in a chair with her fractured ribs.
"Okay," Steve announced. "We have several lines of investigation we have to follow. First, where the hell is Joe White, and why has he been lying to Riley about being in WITSEC? Second, why was he really hiding Riley; was it really because of her foster mom and the Yakuza? And third, what is WoFat's connection to Riley, and why does he think Riley knows anything about Shelburne?"
"And the other big question, who or what is Shelburne?" Danny added.
"I think we're overlooking the first question that we need to answer," Chin said. "Who is Riley? If Joe has lied to her about one thing, he's just as likely lied to her about everything. Starting with her name."
Riley paled.
"Sorry," Chin said. "That was probably much too blunt."
"No, you're right," Riley said. "I only know what Joe and my foster mom told me . . . "
"Okay, let's start there," Steve said. "What have you been told?"
"Right. My parents were in a modern-day commune; so when I was born, I wasn't issued a Social Security number, there was no birth certificate. They were committed to being 'off the grid'. I guess they were a little too fringe to be considered fit parents, because apparently child protective services pulled all of the children out after complaints from concerned citizens. I was placed with Olivia Patterson. Eventually, my birth parents surrendered parental rights so that I could be adopted, and as long as I can remember, I've been told my name is Riley Patterson."
"Do you know your parents' names? Maybe we could start there," Chin suggested.
"Worth a try, but unlikely," Riley answered. "I've never been able to dig up legal records for Sunshine and Starshine O'Riley. And that's the only names I have to go on."
"Wait, your name was Riley O'Riley? Seriously?" Kono was incredulous.
Riley grinned. "No, Oliva said she kept the Riley to honor my parents. My name – not that there is a record of it anywhere – was Moonbeam O'Riley. I kid you not. She never spoke ill of my parents, mind you, but as I got older we created entire storylines of what they were doing. They became like . . . imaginary friends. Treasured, but never taken seriously."
"I can imagine. So, living with Oliva – where did you grow up?" Steve asked.
"Well, from the earliest I can remember, in Japan. She was single, had a job as a freelance writer, mostly for travel magazines. I guess she could live anywhere she wanted to, and she chose just outside of Tokyo. I did my schoolwork at home. I guess I started using the computer so early that it just became second nature to me. I learned all kinds of things, though. We lived in a little town and everyone bartered for everything. Olivia traded laundry and sewing for things like martial arts lessons, botany lessons . . . it was actually an incredibly cool childhood. She taught me to drive when I was . . . wow, I couldn't have been more than twelve. We played games constantly – mostly memory games, trying to guess what people were thinking or doing . . . I was happy."
Riley looked wistful for a moment.
"You okay, kid?" Danny asked. "You said she went missing? Do you know what happened?"
"One day, I guess I was around sixteen – we never celebrated birthdays, so I sort of lost track – I walked home from my martial arts training and she was just . . . gone. Nothing was missing. No note, no explanation. I wasn't sure what to do, but she had taught me to be completely self-sufficient so I just carried on. I searched for her everywhere; I even went into Tokyo. Until the day Joe White showed up. He introduced himself as Agent Pierce and said he was with WITSEC. He had credentials. I believed him."
Steve nodded at Chin, who pulled up a file on Joe White and displayed it on the large plasma.
"We know Joe White as a Navy Commander. He was my training officer in BUDs in Coronado," Steve explained. "Catherine is in Naval Intelligence, with an incredibly high ranking security clearance. We have no reason to believe that Joe was ever in WITSEC. What explanation did he give?"
"He said that Oliva had witnessed a Yakuza execution; that she wasn't really a travel writer, she was an investigative reporter and she had stumbled onto something huge. She'd had to go underground, and they were moving me away for my safety." Riley pulled up a map of Korea on the computer table. Chin was impressed with how easily she navigated the menus and touch screens.
"Yeah, look, it works great for you," Danny grumbled.
"It's my thing, Danny," Riley smiled at him. "Joe took me to Frank. Said I would be safe there. Joe stayed for a few months; he said it was to get me settled in, make sure I understood WITSEC protocol."
"Right," Steve said, skeptically. "What sort of protocol?"
"Well, escape and evade, basic explosives, access and entry, rifles, handguns, that sort of thing," Riley answered.
Blank stares of amazement focused on her.
"Um, what?" she said, confused.
"Riley, that's not WITSEC protocol. That's . . . that sounds like SEAL training," Steve responded slowly.
"That's not . . . oh. So, not everyone in witness protection gets that kind of training?" Riley asked.
"Riley, no one in witness protection gets that kind of training. The point of witness protection is to give people a chance to quietly live their lives in safety and to blend in with society; not to turn them into ninjas," Danny explained.
Steve turned and walked away from the table, and disappeared from the room.
"I don't understand," Riley said quietly.
"Catherine, have you ever heard of anything like this?" Kono asked.
"No, never. This is absolutely not Navy protocol," Catherine replied.
The rest of the team watched with curiosity as Steve strode back into the room and casually placed a black case on the table in front of Riley. Kono recognized it immediately as the case for the Knight's Armament SR-25 sniper rifle.
"Go ahead," he nodded to Riley.
Riley opened the case, glanced at Steve, shrugged, and assembled the rifle with apparent practiced ease. Kono gave a low whistle; she was an expert with the rifle, and Riley's ease of handling and speed of assembly was not far behind her own.
"Nicely done, Riley," Steve said, but his voice was strained. "Take it back down."
He covered the space between the table and his office in a few angry strides, closing the door sharply behind him. The team could see him pull out his phone. He waited for several long seconds, and then threw his phone down on his desk in disgust.
"Did I do something wrong?" Riley asked, glancing at Kono.
"No, sistah, you're fine. Nice handling, by the way." Kono smiled warmly at Riley while casting a worried glance at the rest of the team.
Danny started to move toward the office, but Catherine stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Let me give it a try, Danny," she said. "Why don't you all take a minute – get some coffee, maybe start pulling some background on whatever you can find on Riley's parents and foster mom, okay?"
"Talk to me, sailor," Catherine said, closing the door gently behind her. "I take it from your pacing that you're still not reaching Joe?"
"Nothing, Cath. I've reached out to all my contacts – official and otherwise. It's like he's vanished. Damn it, Catherine, Joe spent months training that girl. She was just a high school kid, why did he think she needed SEAL level training? You saw the way she handled that rifle. That's muscle memory, Cath. He trained her and he pushed her hard, there's no two ways about it."
"And you have no idea why?"
"No, and unless she is damn good at hiding, neither did she. Cath, was he training her for her own defense or as a weapon? What is he trying to hide?"
"I don't know Steve, and I don't like it any more than you do."
"Cath, I'm not sure what to do. If I keep digging – who else do I put in danger? Maybe Joe was right; maybe Riley was endangered because I was getting too close to something, asking too many questions. But we're not safe in the dark, either." Steve rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, wincing as his callused hand caught the steri-strips over his eyebrow.
The rest of the day was spent pouring over files and records. Riley had been hopeful that her expertise in computer forensics, combined with Steve and Catherine's high-level clearance, would yield some results. But as the sun started to set, they had only more questions, and absolutely no more answers.
Danny, as usual, was the first one to suggest calling it a day and getting some rest.
"Look, we've done all we can for one day. We're all jet-lagged; Steve and Riley are injured. And, may I be perfectly selfish here – I haven't seen Gracie for over a week."
Chin clapped Danny on the shoulder. "Go, brah, go see that beautiful girl of yours. I'll convince Steve to wrap up here."
Danny went towards Steve office to say goodnight before leaving. He paused outside the door, watching Steve, Catherine, and Riley as they stood in front of Steve's desk, looking at some records of Joe White's that Catherine had pulled up on the plasma. At first, Danny's eyes lingered on the pictures and maps on the screen; however, his gaze quickly settled on Steve and Riley, standing side by side with their backs to the glass office walls.
"Hunh," he muttered.
"Whatzit, Danny?" Kono asked, having noticed Danny standing outside Steve's office.
"I'm not sure . . . just . . . okay, look at Steve and Riley. What do you see?" he asked Kono.
Kono tilted her head and observed for a moment. "Okay, that's a little creepy," she said.
"What's creepy?" Chin had joined them.
"Okay, look at Riley and Steve," Kono instructed. "Do you see it? Look at the way they're standing. Arms crossed, shoulders back, weight slightly to the left . . . "
"They look like freaking synchronized swimmers," Danny grumbled.
"Both trained by Joe White?" Chin suggested.
Kono nodded. "Yeah, that could explain it. I've seen Joe and Steve standing together . . . I thought it was a Navy SEAL thing. That probably explains it."
Danny nodded slowly. Something nagged at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Okay, I'm gonna say goodnight and then go see my monkey."
The rest of the team convinced Steve to call it a day, citing hunger and fatigue, and headed to grab food from Kamekona's shrimp truck before parting ways.
When Steve, Catherine, and Riley arrived back at his house, Steve was pleased to find that Grover had kept a detail on his house all day.
"The house is secure, Commander," the uniformed officer informed him, shaking his hand. "Our relief team will be here in about thirty minutes. We'll try to stay out of your way, give you some peace and quiet, but we are here for anything you need."
"Thanks, Sergeant," Steve said. "Appreciate SWAT's support."
Inside, Catherine went up to take a shower while Steve fixed a pot of coffee. "Make yourself at home, Riley," he instructed. "Oh, I almost forgot – Grover's wife went out and picked up some clothes and things for you today – hope that was okay. Grover said she had deadly accuracy with sizes and styles; she and her daughter apparently had a great day out shopping, and you should have enough to tide you over until we can get you properly settled. They put everything in the guest room."
Riley stretched gingerly; her ribs were protesting time on her feet and standing over the computer table. "That was incredibly thoughtful," she said, "I'll need to make sure to write a proper thank-you note." Steve smiled. His mom had been a stickler for thank-you notes; always made sure he and Mary had them neatly mailed out to Aunt Deb. It was a habit that he had maintained.
Riley headed down the hall, and into the guest room, delighted to find some very soft and comfy sweats among the small duffle of clothes left on the bed for her. Padding back toward the kitchen, she picked up the laptop bag that she had carried home from HQ.
"Thanks for letting me bring this back," she said to Steve, going into the kitchen to snag some coffee. "I thought I might start with my student ID number at Tokyo University, work my way back. Since I have no birth certificate or Social Security number – that I know of – it's all I have to go on. I've done it before, and didn't get very far, but I've never been able to legally access some of the information that you and Catherine can."
"You've never been able to legally access the information . . . could you have . . . illegally?" Steve asked, curious.
"You mean could I hack it?" Riley grinned.
"Well, yeah."
"Easy."
"But you didn't." It was a statement, not a question.
"Nope."
"Why not? Weren't you curious?"
"Of course . . . but . . . Joe pointed out that anything I did could create a trail that would lead back to Olivia, and put her in danger. I wasn't going to risk that. I'm still worried about that, in fact, but it seems like I could just as easily be putting her in danger by not knowing . . . I don't know. I'm not sure what to believe about anything right now."
Steve sighed. He wasn't sure if Joe was protecting Riley or himself. "Look, Riley . . . we could actually put you in WITSEC, if you wanted . . . " He trailed off the thought. He really couldn't imagine sending her away, but at the same time, he knew that he was in danger of using her for answers – and how was that any better than what Joe White had done?
"Please, no," Riley protested vehemently. Steve was startled to see tears in her eyes. "Please, don't send me away . . . I know I'm not being terribly useful right now, but if I have to start all over again . . . Joe thought he had me somewhere safe and WoFat's people still found me . . . " She was becoming agitated.
Steve crossed to her quickly and wrapped her in a gentle hug.
"Riley, no, that's not it at all. You're being incredibly helpful. I just don't want to put you in even more danger. I seem to do that."
"You weren't anywhere near me when I got bashed over the head and thrown on a ship," Riley pointed out. "It was your people coming to rescue you that got me away from WoFat. I think I'll take my chances with you and your team, Steve."
He nodded. "We'll do everything we can to find answers, and to keep you safe."
"Okay, then," Riley sighed in relief. "Where can I set up to do a little homework? Oh my gosh, I should literally check in with my professors . . . they must be frantic . . . can I do that? Is that safe?"
Steve paused. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I hadn't thought about that. Let's talk it over with Catherine. Maybe she has some contacts there who could help us. Go ahead and set up at that table in the dining room – just clear a spot and make yourself comfortable."
"Sounds reasonable," Riley said, as she went into the dining room, laptop in one hand and coffee in the other.
Steve heard her puttering around, shifting some of the maps, plugging in the laptop, and settling her coffee onto a coaster. He could hear the soft whir of the computer booting up, and the gentle footfalls of Catherine as she came back down the stairs and toward the kitchen.
Steve took a deep breath and allowed himself a moment to relax. They may be far from answers, but Catherine was here, Riley was safe, his ohana was intact. He opened his arms for a hug as Cath came into the kitchen; enjoying the warmth of her slim body wrapped in his arms, the fragrance of her shampoo familiar and comforting. It was a rare moment of peace and contentment in the middle of the unknown.
He should have known it would be incredibly short lived.
"Steve?"
He turned, immediately on alert at the strained quality of Riley's voice.
She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a framed picture clenched in her hands so tightly that she had broken the glass. It had cut her hand, badly, from the looks of it, but she was oblivious to the blood steadily dripping onto the floor.
"Riley, what is it?" Catherine asked, alarmed.
"Steve, why do you have all these pictures of my foster mom? Why are there pictures of Olivia?"
